Chapter 1: Pancakes, Hockey and Ice-packs
Chapter Summary: Alfred has a bad dream about his brother and his dead parents and then later that day he gets into a fight with his twin brother Matthew. What will happen to the pair? (I fail at summaries)
Pairings: A tiny bit of AmeCan
Disclaimer: I don't own hetalia or any of the characters in this chapter, just the fic and myself. If I did own hetalia... oh god no... I don't want to know how that would end.
A/N: This is my first fic I'm going to post online. I'm nervous yes and kinda worried everyone will hate me but anyways: I've had this idea for a couple of weeks now and I only had a few characters in mind that I had full background stories set out for and it only left me with a few other characters to choose from to make the story focus around. I normally write from Arthur (England) or Yao (China)'s eyes but I decided for a change and I present to you, Alfred Fucking Jones. Yeah, I'm not a massive fan of America but he's alright. And BTW the pairings in this fic aren't going to change. All the pairings in here are the ones I ship each character with the most so don't like it, deal with it. I doubt anybody out there supports all the pairings I do and disapproves of the ones I do so suck it losers! *shot by Prussia for stealing his line* I-I'm sorry your awesomeness.
Anyway, enough of my rambling, here's the shittiest fic you'll ever read.
"Ha! Mattie, you suck at sports! Let's see; baseball, basketball, football, soccer and even that stupid game 'cricket'. I beat you at everything, but honestly Mattie, do you even try?"
"Al…"
"Bro? You alright? Why are you crying? Bro? Bro? BRO!"
Alfred awoke to the smell of blueberries and syrup. Maple syrup. His eyes shot open and darted to the door as his twin walked in with a breakfast tray and a plate stacked high with pancakes and coated in maple syrup and blueberries. There was a glass and a jug of fresh orange juice beside the plate and the sight made the American's mouth water.
"Al, why are you crying? Is my food really that good?" Matthew whispered, a shy smile creeping over his lips.
Alfred's fingers flew to his face. His cheeks were wet. He'd been crying.
"Wha-? Whe-? Ho-?... huh?"
A slight chuckle bubbled up in Matthews's throat and he had to force it back at the worried look on his twin's face. He placed the heavy tray on the cluttered bedside table and sat on the bed with his brother. Stroking his messy bed-hair out of his brother's face, the Canadian grabbed a tissue and dabbed the said American's cheeks dry.
"Tell me, Alfred, what you dreamt about last night." he questioned in his formal voice, treating his brother as though he were a patient.
"Fuck you! I'm not one of your mental, crazy patients! Just because I wake up crying-"
"What did you dream about? I can help you Al."
"MATTIE!" The dominant twin whined, embarrassed by his brothers intelligence and skills in human phycology.
"Al."
The bear-loving-Canadian stared at his brother, prying into his thoughts and maybe even his soul.
"FINE!" Alfred yelled, causing a smile to creep up on his brother's lips. "I dreamt that we were playing different sports together and I kept on winning and then I started to rub it in your face and you started to cry and you wouldn't listen to me and you kept crying and then you ran away with mom and dad and never came back and they were laughing at me and-"
"Okay, okay, okay. Calm down, Al. It was just a dream. You're fine and I'm here and mom and dad are d-dead and there is nothing to worry about," Matthew stroked the now shaking American, slowly bringing his rapid breathing down to deep, calm breaths.
"You're not going to leave me, are you?"
"No."
"You promise?"
"I promise, Al."
"Good… I love you Mattie…"
"I love you too, bro."
The American's face was flushed and he tilted his head to the side at his twins reply, a slight hint of sadness in his eyes. The Canadian shrugged it off and stood up.
"Now eat your breakfast before it gets cold, get washed, get dressed and I'll prove to you what you said in that dream was wrong."
"Wha-?" Alfred replied as the long-haired blond left. "ALRIGHT, MOM!"
"HOSER!"
Alfred cracked his knuckles and leant back against the bench holding an icepack to his cheek. Matthew walked in and took his ice skates off and pulled on his fur boots and then sat next to his brother.
"Sorry about your cheek…" the said Canadian murmured.
"Meh, it's alright. I beat you in every other sport so I guess you can beat me in Ice Hockey."
"I feel bad about your face though…"
"Dude that would make an epic insult! You got to use that one on old fishy!"
"…it was meant to be an insult, hoser…" Matthew muttered but to his shame it didn't go unheard.
"HEY! AT LEAST I DON'T LOOK LIKE A GIRL!"
"I DON'T LOOK LIKE A GIRL!"
"DO TO!"
"DO NOT! "
"DO TO! YOU LOOK JUST LIKE FISH FACE AND FISH FACE LOOKS LIKE A GIRL TOO!"
"I DO NOT LOOK LIKE ROBERT; I LOOK LIKE YOU SO YOU MUST BE A GIRL TOO! AND DON'T CALL MONSIEUR ELSBERRY A FISH! IT'S MEAN!"
"HA! YOU ADMITTED YOU LOOK LIKE A GIRL!"
"DID NOT!"
"DID TOO!"
"DID NOT!"
"DID TOO!"
"DID NOT!"
"DID TOO!"
BAM!
The American sat at the TV, flicking through channels whilst eating a burger. He finally settled on a comedy show and started laughing only seconds after the channel had changed. His cheek hurt as did his eye when he laughed so it only came out as a slight chuckle.
He felt really bad for teasing his brother now. He had stormed off after whacking Alfred in the face once again with a hockey stick. He'd been gone for two hours and guilt was now gnawing away at the American's conscience.
The hamburger lover could remember the first time his elder twin had run off like this. They had been playing in the garden and the grandma's as their parents had died only months ago and Alfred had stupidly claimed that he was the favourite child and that nobody loved poor Matthew. He had run away to a little meadow where the sun set was gorgeous and didn't come back until 7 o'clock, when the sun had set. Their Grandpa had gone crazy trying to find the 7 year old and their Grandma nearly had a heart attack. The police and ambulance came. It was a scary thought now that Alfred thought about it. He could have caused his Grandma to die from a heart attack and his twin to be murdered only a few months after his parents had died.
"I think I should call him. He's got to be missing me surely…"
The American picked up the phone and scrolled down to his brother's contact, pushing the little green button.
It rang once, twice, three times, four times, five times and then finally:
"We are sorry but the number you have dialled does not exist-"
Alfred flung his phone across the room and at the television, cracking the screen. He didn't care. That was his brother's phone number. Saved in his contacts and dialled multiple times. It was his number. It existed. But now it didn't. And he couldn't contact Matthew. And it was dark. And he was alone. And so was Alfred.
"Fuck…"
Fat, salty tears rolled down his cheeks at the horrid and gruesome thoughts running through his mind. He flung on his coat and yanked the door open, making sure to stuff his phone back into his pocket just in case Matthew managed to contact him.
He was going to find his brother.
A/N: So there you have it! No fantasy yet but a lot of drama between the twins. I've spent an hour writing this short little thing and I think it's simply because I got a little bit of writers block somewhere in the middle. Well I got so involved in writing this I've only just realised it's so bloody bright outside for 8:30. I honestly thought it was dark outside just from writing this but I get really involved in writing/reading so this happens often (fail.)
Now to clear some things up.
You might say "Oh, but Alfred and Matthew are born three days apart! However can they be twins?" Well, sometimes pregnancies have to be prolonged because the mother goes into labour too early. I say that they are twins and Matthew was born 6 weeks early so they stopped the pregnancy but only days later she had to have a C-section because Alfred's umbilical cord had blocked up and he was slowly dying. What fun.
And yes I ship AmeCan. And yes I know its incest (twincest in my eyes.) I don't support it irl, but let's face it, all the nations are probably related anyway.
Old Fish Face is a reference to a girl that lives on my big sisters street and we always used to call her fish face because she had the face of a fish. I kinda took the name Robert Elsberry from a nice boy I used to know in Primary School and I feel bad now. I'll probably change it in later chapters.
Please review and tell me of any mistakes I make. Sorry if I come across as crazy or mean but I'm often described as Russia (generally when I'm angry or depressed and sadly that's too often (don't worry I love you Ivan~)) or Romano which is all of the time unless I'm hyper, then I get called America (god damn it.)
I'll love you all forever if you review~!
